


acrobatic bastard (very very derogatory)

by weirdfishy



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Cussing, F/M, Fluff, Horse-person Geralt, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Lavinia would very much just like to eat her chicken nuggets and pass out, M/M, Multi, Musician Jaskier | Dandelion, Prompt Fill, Slight pining, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, almost-violence incited over food-stealing, ambiguous retail worker OC, brief and vague allusion to being killed with violent practices, but her acrobatic bastard of a best friend has other plans, cross posted from tumblr, rating for the little cussing I put in here, separate modern au, they all have crushes on each other, they're housemates, vague stuff, with varying degrees of realisation of course
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 23:47:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29498286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weirdfishy/pseuds/weirdfishy
Summary: no?you didn’t ask for a different modern au where I wrote in my oc, Lavinia, as musician Jask’s best friend and now shares a house with her and their mostly quiet, hunk of a tenant, Geralt?and scene 2983280 where Lavinia has chicken nuggets that Jask steals?and at the end, it’s kind of soft and kind of yearning?no? are you sure? ah, well. it's here. and queer. and you should read it. please?
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Original Female Character(s), Jaskier | Dandelion & Original Female Character(s), Lavinia & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Original Female Character(s) & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion
Kudos: 1





	acrobatic bastard (very very derogatory)

“It shouldn’t have come to this, darling! You should have just moved on with your life!” A teasing light voice exclaims, the somewhat slim man smiling gleefully.

Jaskier, the acrobatic _bastard_ he was, was shouting from the higher branches of their willow tree, ultimately afraid of the 5-foot-9 fellow brunette, Lavinia, scowling up at him. Not really _him_ either, she was glaring at his hands. She was glaring at his hands because _one_ , the pair of deviously dextrous appendages had taken the last of her chicken nuggets - _two_ , they had absconded with her favored honey-mustard sauce to pair with said stolen nuggets, and _three_ , they had _taken her chicken nuggets_.

Has it been mentioned Lavinia was hangry? Well. She was most certainly more _hungry_ than _angry_ , but the longer her cheeky bastard of a best friend stayed up in their backyard’s willow tree, the more she wanted to cut the damned tree down herself and possibly strangle him. She was _tired_ damnit - retail took the life and soul out of a person, but today some shopping deity wasn’t pleased with her and had cursed her with four-too-many bitchy customers. Stopping by Jack-in-the-Box to spend a part of her low part-time retail wage on nuggets and an oreo shake might have been the highlight of her _entire week._

Until, of course, Jaskier, her bright-as-the-sun and loud-as-a-carnival housemate had interrupted her meal. A meal in which she was _just_ trying to _not_ let loose a high-pitched scream in utter and complete exhaustion. Lavinia was even trying to distract her woes with Jaskier’s music when he waltzed in, a tone of delight escaping his lips at the sight of chicken nuggets. She hadn’t noticed him until they were gone, seeing only his back leaving through the back door.

Lavinia had never chased anything so fast in her entire existence, and instead of a high-pitched scream, a roar of misery-turned-hanger ripped out of her lips, directed at Jaskier. To his credit, he shook off the innocent look he had and bolted, scrambling up the tree with practiced ease, the last of the chicken nuggets shoved into his hoodie pocket.

Jaskier _did_ release a _slight_ squeal of fear at the realization of what he incited from one of his closest friends. It stopped when she reached the base of the thick trunk, his bum resting sturdily on a branch and his fingers shakily, but quickly polishing off the slightly messy meat, cursing the stain of mustard he now had on the inside of his hoodie pocket.

When he looked down he was slightly worried about his friend, but he was also used to her ‘I’m fucking exhausted, obey me’ mood. He used to be deathly afraid of it, but now it was fun to rile her up a teensy bit more before deserting their house for a week in favor of spending it at Priscilla’s apartment. It was kind of trashy, sure, in an ‘I’m an art student’ kind of way that his room would have if not for Lavinia, and it definitely didn’t have one of his near-nuclear ~~crushes~~ best friends ready to off him at the most convenient time.

Lavinia’s angered and throaty threats were growing loud, and it was after a few of Jaskier’s usual snarky replies did their other housemate stumble out of the house. Geralt, their burly horse-person of a tenant, looked like he had been hungover for a few decades when he woke up, and in the dying light of the day, he looked like death - or, really close to what Lavinia felt like. He grumbled out a response to the familiar snark coming from his friend ~~crush~~ , waking up and registering the shouting he had heard more with each passing second.

“Little too late now, lark, you’ve passed the point of no return. You’re either going to rot up there or you’re going to come down.” Geralt rubbed his eyes before stretching. “Best case, you buy her more food; you live. Worst,” he shrugs, walking over to his friend ~~love interest?~~ not in a tree, to pull her away from Jaskier and resting a steady arm around her waist, “you get ripped to pieces and we’ll have to cover the yard with dirt and put your headstone engravings on the fence because your guts will be everywhere.”

His voice is as deep as you’d expect it to be from a man of his considerable stature, the sound carrying up to Jaskier, and Geralt keeps scooting Lavinia further from the base of the tree. She’s calming down, leaning on the physical pillar he provides - he spends most days at a ranch doing physical labor, so his physique is quite impressive. Not that she finds it impressive now, she’s crashing, _hard_ , and Geralt would really like to go to back to being willfully unconscious as well. So, he shoots an imperious look at Jaskier that still scares the life out of the smaller man and bodily lifts Lavinia over his shoulder, marching inside.

~

Lavinia is the best cuddle partner, they all know it, and with this level of bone-deep exhaustion pulling her under, she’s going to be a limpet. It’ll give Geralt a feeble excuse as to why they’ll wake up cuddled together, because he doesn’t say it - would even deny it - but he adores it when either of them falls asleep on him and curl around him to seek out his unnatural body heat.

Both Jaskier and Lavinia speak in physical touch as an affectionate affirmation, especially with each other, the two of them friends since high school, but Geralt is slightly unused to it. He does revel in it though, when she braids his shoulder-length hair, her fingers lightly scratching his scalp, or when Jaskier massages a knot out of his shoulder with no small amount of serenading (at least that’s what Jaskier thinks it is. Geralt blocks it out in his generally tired state and doesn’t really hear it as such. or at all).

Excuses aside, Geralt hauls a now boneless (and practically weightless) Lavinia to his room, making sure she’s comfortable before falling asleep, her body already seeking out his heat. Geralt nestles into the multitude of pillows piled on his bed, and closes his eyes with Lavinia’s head under his chin.

Outside, the sky is darkening, and Jaskier scrambles again, this time effortlessly down the tree, before rushing through their house to change sweaters and sprint to the store for frozen chicken nuggets. He’s completely out of breath when he makes it back, a heavy plastic bag of frozen chicken nuggets and frozen pizza (for Geralt) in hand - performer’s lungs be damned.

Lavinia won’t want more until after she wakes up, so he shoves it into the freezer and makes sure they still have a stash of honey mustard, and plugs in her phone, a soft, slightly regretful smile forming at seeing what she’d been listening to before he incurred her wrath. He decides on a shower and nap also, and wishes he could fit on Geralt’s bed (he could if he divested it of a few pillows), but also doesn’t want to be awkward.

The sun is below the horizon when all three inhabitants of the house are asleep.

~

_Pau_

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! 💚
> 
> leave a lil comment/kudos if it would so please you (bc it would very much make me happy)
> 
> [the post is also on tumblr!](https://weirdfishy.tumblr.com/post/643275994760871936/acrobatic-bastard)   
>  [come say hi on tumblr!](https://weirdfishy.tumblr.com/)


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